


today

by sarken



Category: Real News RPF
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, First Time, High School AU, Lesbian Character, Pundit Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-13
Updated: 2009-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the school day, Rachel comes on to Keith. Her reasons are complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	today

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pundit Kink Meme prompt: _Teenage Keith and Rachel, best friends, Rachel knows she's gay but thinks maybe she could turn straight if she had sex with a guy she loves. Sex is starts out slow, gets frantic as she tries to convince herself she likes it. Crying ensues after._

Keith is kneeling on the floor, rummaging through the bottom of his locker when Rachel walks up to him, her backpack slung over one shoulder and a textbook held in her arms. He has a view clear up her skirt when she leans against the row of lockers, but he already knows she wears shorts under her skirts. He's never understood why she bothers with skirts.

"So," she says, because their end-of-the-day conversations always start that way, "you wanna come over and study anatomy?"

He smiles up at her before getting to his feet. "Are you coming on to me?" he teases. It's been part of their routine since they took sex ed as freshmen, giggling and defacing their textbooks in the cafeteria, Keith teasing Rachel until she turned red and snorted milk out her nose. He had thought about kissing her until she threw a milk-soaked napkin at his head.

Rachel looks at the floor. "Yeah," she says quietly, toeing the carpet. "Yeah, I -- I am coming on to you. Today."

Keith feels a little dizzy, and it gets worse when he sees her look down the empty hall and step closer. He rests his hand on the locker door, hoping he looks casual instead of nearly sick.

"My parents are away," she says, keeping her voice down. She licks her lips. "I want...I don't know what I want, just that I want to do it with you. You're my best friend, and I should -- I want this. So...would you?"

His heart is beating hard and fast in his chest. He's wanted this since they were twelve and just figuring out what sex was, or maybe since second grade, when she shared her crayons and he pulled her pigtails. He thinks he might have to kiss her, but his mouth is too dry. He has no idea how he's supposed to drive them to her house without running into a lamppost.

"Keith?" She's wide-eyed and scared, her eyes wet like she might just cry.

"Yes," he says quickly. He hates it when she cries, and she does it all the time now. It used to take broken bones to make her cry, but now it only takes a few notes of a sad song on the radio. Keith has a running list of songs he tries to keep her from hearing. "Would I? God, Rachel, I -- yes. Right here, if that's what you wanted."

She laughs, a nervous, forced laughed. "No, my house. Definitely my house."

He looks around, hesitating, not wanting to be overheard. "Can I -- can I kiss you? Now?"

She smiles at him. "I think that would be okay."

He's gentle, careful, like he's afraid he might scare her away if he does anything more than brush his lips against hers. She's taller than the other girls he's kissed, and he likes that he can just do it and enjoy it without worrying about the mechanics of it. He just wishes her anatomy textbook weren't between them.

When they pull back, Rachel swallows hard and makes a vague gesture toward the exit. "We should..."

Keith nods and closes his locker. He forgets to lock it.

-

He's been in her bedroom too many times to count. He knows where she hid her diary when she used to keep one; he's gone in her underwear drawer to get the cigarettes she keeps for him. He's hidden in her closet when she's been grounded and snuck him in anyway, so he knows the toy doctor kit they used to play with is still up on the top shelf.

But when she closes the bedroom door behind them, he realizes he's never seen the back of her door before. It's painted white and looks exactly the same as the front, but it makes him nervous. No matter what they were doing, they had always left the door open before. With her parents out of town, Keith wonders why she's closing it for this.

Rachel toes her shoes off and kicks them under the bed. "This doesn't seem right," she says, sitting down. "It feels weird to just, you know, take off our clothes and do it. Shouldn't something have to happen first? You've done this before. Are we doing this right?"

Keith walks over to her nightstand and turns on the clock radio, fiddling with the dial until he finds something he likes. Sitting on the bed, he wraps his arm around Rachel's shoulders, and she immediately leans against him. "Relax," he says, scooting back so they're leaning against the headboard, their legs stretched out on the bed. He plays with her hair, his fingers close to her scalp. "Get comfortable. Take off your shorts. Or your skirt. Whichever."

She turns to look at him, grinning. "I'm not wearing shorts. I gave that up."

Keith makes a scandalized face and gasps. "I don't believe you," he says, and he's not sure if he's teasing her.

She shrugs. "You can check."

It's an opening and a dare, and the words have barely left her mouth before he's sliding a hand up her leg and under her skirt. He feels brave with her, not worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. He knows he can tease her, knows she'll stop him if he pushes too far.

"Huh," he says, fingers brushing her bare inner thigh. "No shorts. Anything else I should know about?"

"I don't know," she says, sitting up and turning to straddle Keith's lap. "What else would you want to know?"

"You haven't given up on underwear, too, have you?" he asks, both hands sliding beneath her skirt, creeping up the backs of her thighs until he's cupping her ass, only the thin cotton of her underwear separating her skin from his.

Rachel leans down and kisses him, and Keith is pretty sure the taste of Coke and cafeteria French fries isn't supposed to turn him on like this. But he has Rachel's tongue in his mouth and his hands up her skirt, so he's never going to look at the lunch menu the same way again.

When she pulls away, she's frowning, and he smiles to let her know it's okay. "I have one more question," he says. His right hand slides down her leg and rests on the delicate skin behind her knee.

"Hmm?"

"It's actually a two part question," he says. With his index finger, he traces the curve of her ass, following the thin line of elastic on her underwear. "What color are they, and does your bra match?"

She grins at him. "They so don't match," she says, almost bragging, and Keith chuckles. He grabs her waist and tumbles her onto her back, her hair fanning out around her head and that crooked smile on her face. He's not sure how he got so lucky, and he reaches for the top button of her shirt.

"Rach," he says, the pad of his thumb pressed against the little button, itching to undo it, "I don't -- I'm not just saying this because of...but I love you, you know?"

There are those tears again, the ones he hates and can't explain and sees too often these days. "I wanted to say it first," she says, her voice watery and emotional even as she teases him. She reaches out and runs a finger over the front of his pants, tracing the length of his erection.

His eyes almost roll back into his skull, and then he's leaning down and kissing her, sucking on her lower lip while he unbuttons that first button. As he unfastens the buttons, he kisses a line down her neck, across her collarbones, stopping before he's even with her breasts. He sits back on his heels and lets her shirt fall open, revealing a plain white bra.

"I never said it was interesting," she says with a shrug, and Keith can feel himself go wide-eyed and slack-jawed. She scowls at him. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You -- your -- when you..." He trips over his words before mimicking her shrug and making a vague gesture at his own chest. "When you did that..."

Rachel laughs, hard, her whole body shaking, pressing her hand against her bare stomach as she manages, "You've seen me shrug before, you idiot. You've even seen me naked."

While she's laughing, Keith pulls his own shirt over his head. He drops it on her face, and she bundles it up and throws it back at his head. She throws hers at him, too, and he ducks, diving onto the mattress beside her. Their laughter peaks then, subsiding rapidly as they realize they're half-undressed and sprawled across her bed.

Keith frowns when Rachel gets up from the bed. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," Rachel says, and before Keith can realize what she's doing, her skirt is lying on the floor and she's climbing back onto the bed. With a leg on either side of him, supporting most of her weight, she sits lightly on his stomach and looks down at him. "Hi."

Keith hooks a finger in the front of her bra, around the thin strip of fabric that runs between her breasts. "You're moving fast all of a sudden," he says, resting his other hand on her hip.

She shakes her head. "You're just slow." She reaches behind her to undo the clasp on her bra, and then she shrugs out of it, letting it fall onto Keith's chest. It feels strangely warm as it lies against his skin, and he would toss it aside if he weren't so distracted by Rachel's breasts, her nipples just starting to harden as he stares at her.

"Uh, speaking of 'hi,'" Keith says, and Rachel laughs. He has to touch her then, both hands cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing across her nipples, and he swears he can feel her get just a little hotter against his stomach as she arches into his touch, gasping lightly. Her breasts all but disappear under his hands -- she's not even a handful, but Keith is pretty sure she'll be a perfect mouthful, and his hands slide around to her back, encouraging her to lean down and lie across his chest.

"Is this fast enough for you?" he asks, angling his hips so she can feel the full length of his erection press against her thigh through his pants. He slides his hand down the back of her underwear, trailing a finger between her cheeks. He kneads her ass while they make out lazily, him dry-humping her leg with increasing urgency.

When her hand slides between them and she cups him through his pants, he thinks he might come then and there. He rolls Rachel onto her back and sits up, quickly and carefully taking off his pants and underwear. He feels Rachel's eyes go directly to his erection, staring, and when he looks at her, she's wearing the same curious expression she wore the first time she saw it, the day a few years ago that they stripped down just to compare and contrast. They were much too old for it to be innocent, and Keith had already known how much he wanted her, but they had kept their hands to themselves, Keith having more difficulty than Rachel.

Wordlessly, Rachel lifts her hips, tugging her underwear down as far as she can reach. Keith pulls them off the rest of the way before leaning down to kiss her. He doesn't ask if she's okay as he positions himself between her thighs; doesn't ask as he slowly pushes into her, listening to the little gasps she makes. He just strokes her smooth, flat stomach, encouraging her to relax until she nods at him.

She's hot and tight and wet around him, but so were the two other girls he had sex with. Being inside Rachel is both reassuringly and disappointingly familiar, but when he starts thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm and she mumbles his name, that's when he feels something low in his stomach that he's never felt before, something that makes this different than giggling girlfriends and the back seat of his car.

He's in mid-thrust, about to push back inside her, when she says uncertainly, "Can you -- faster, maybe? Harder?"

He stops holding back, tries to create a new rhythm, but she keeps panting and pleading for more and he keeps trying to give it to her, trying to do what she asks, dimly wondering if he is going to end up coming or hurting her first. He gets his answer when she picks up his rhythm, meeting him thrust for thrust, and he's almost hypnotized by this feeling, by her, and everything else ceases to exist as their bodies collide and he comes inside her, her fingernails digging into his back as he squeezes his eyes shut.

When he opens his eyes, he's not sure how many minutes have passed since he collapsed on top of her. He's still inside her, her hand stroking his back, but he can hear her sniffling now, and his heart immediately starts to beat faster.

"Rach?" He touches her hair, pushing it behind her ear. He takes his weight off her, pulling out of her as he rolls onto his side. He leaves a few inches between their bodies, but she scoots closer to him, her shoulder bumping his chest. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to be a lesbian," she chokes out, immediately starting to cry harder.

Keith almost laughs at the unexpected absurdity of her statement, but he stops himself and instead lies back, pulling her halfway onto his chest. "What?" he asks, stroking her back. She has her face pressed against his neck, and he can feel her tears running down his skin. "I don't -- was it bad? I don't understand."

She shakes her head, her nose brushing side to side against his neck. "No," she says. "God, no, it was -- you did everything I wanted you to and I should never have asked in the first place because I knew that..."

"What did you know?" Keith tightens his arms around her, only dimly aware of the fact that they're still naked and sticky. He's more interested in the way her tears are subsiding as she tries to explain why she's upset.

"I thought -- I thought maybe if I didn't fit the stereotype, you know? Maybe if I started acting like a girl, maybe I'd...I don't know, it sounds so stupid when I say it. But it didn't work, and I thought maybe because it's you, because you're my best friend and I love you, I thought maybe you could be the one guy I wanted. But it didn't work and I shouldn't have asked you and, God, you should hate me for this."

He feels like someone -- like Rachel just punched him in the gut. She just broke his heart, but he is too busy thinking about all those odd little changes he never understood but never questioned, things like quitting the basketball team and growing her hair longer. He can't believe she never told him what was going on, and if he were to hate her for anything, it would be for hiding from him, not for using him.

But she's his best friend, and he just let her sob against his neck, getting snot and saliva all over him. He's pretty sure he could never hate her, and he realizes he should probably tell her that, so he says, "It doesn't work like that, Rach. You're supposed to have sex with boys to make them like you, not hate you."

She laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. He feels her exhale deeply and relax against his chest. He closes his eyes and savors the feel of her naked body against his, knowing this is the only chance he'll get.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [sweet (where others have failed)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/96963) by [sarken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken)




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